


Killer

by Tarlan



Category: The Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: Community: 100fandoms, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:47:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28271130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: Michael was enthralled by David from the moment he saw him, but he couldn't become a killer, not even for David. There had to be another way.
Relationships: David/Michael Emerson (Lost Boys)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33
Collections: fandomtrees





	Killer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [d0gs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/d0gs/gifts).



> Also meets 100fandoms prompt 56: alive

It wasn't his mom's fault they had ended up here in Santa Clara, living in the musty old house owned by their mom's father. Michael could only blame his dad for abandoning them, heading off with another woman and leaving them without any means of support. The house was sold up beneath them, leaving them homeless too. It wasn't fair, and Michael was mean enough to wish his dad's new floozy would give him an STD. Grandpa had given them a roof over their heads, but all Michael could think about was the world he had left behind. Starting over in a new place would be hard, though maybe even harder for his brother as Sam was a city-boy through and through.

About the only thing going for Santa Clara was the Boardwalk. The summer season had just begun, so Michael had a few months to decide what he was going to do with the rest of his life. His mom wanted him to go to college but without a full scholarship that looked unlikely now.

He wasn't sure he wanted to head to college anyway.

With nothing else to do, he and Sam headed to the Boardwalk as soon as it was dark, drawn in by the bright lights, the loud music, and the eager crowd laughing and playing among the amusements and rides. Michael knew his mom was looking for seasonal work and, by rights, he knew he ought to be looking too as the family needed any money they could get to support them until they had enough to buy a place of their own. 

That was when he saw her in the crowd. There was something different about her that caught his attention, some ethereal quality, so he followed her, mesmerized by her right up until a soft voice called to her. He saw her hesitate before crossing the dusty ground to mount up behind the beautiful, blond-haired man sitting astride a motorbike more powerful than his own. 

Michael convinced himself he followed them because of Star, but it was David who drew him like a moth to a flame, cracking the brittle shell surrounding his perception of himself.

Over the next few days he did everything to prove it was Star who had him enthralled, not the eternally beautiful David. He remembered the feel of Star's soft skin, of her body lying beneath him, but it was the heavy weight of David's arm slung across his shoulder that made his heart flutter. It was David's shy smile, his soft laugh, and the feel of his hands grasping Michael, strong and yet gentle. 

David was a killer, a vampire... a monster, and yet Michael could not stop thinking about him, could not stop wanting him, even as they grappled in a fight inside his Grandpa's creepy house.

"Stop fighting me, Michael. I don't want to kill you."

It was the shock of seeing David impaled on the horns, of watching his face change from demonic vampire to angelic human, that shattered the last of Michael's illusions.

It was never Star, and as she looked into his eyes she knew it too.

Michael knew he was supposed to be her first kill, singled out from the crowd by her, and she had hesitated at David's call only because she couldn't understand why David had stopped her. Once Max was dead, Michael, Star, and Laddie were free from their half-vampire existence. The craving for blood ended and Michael could only watch as Star and Laddie left without a backwards glance, eager to go home to their families and friends, leaving Michael to clean up the mess left behind, but what he couldn't do was live in denial any longer. He had wanted David in every way that mattered, desperately wishing he could have followed David, become one like him, if only to stay by his side for eternity.

He stood next to David's body, reaching out to caress David's face as if he were merely sleeping, and Michael's heart broke, feeling a grief so powerful if brought choking sobs.

"I'm so sorry. I couldn't be a killer," he sobbed. "Not even for you."

Too late he heard a warning shout behind him as he lifted David's heavy body off the horns, quickly laying David down on the floor, and turning. The Frog brothers raced forward with wooden stakes clasped in their hands but Michael stopped them in their tracks. David was dead, and he had no intention of allowing anyone to further desecrate his body. He had taken his eyes off David for only seconds but when he turned he understood the fear in the brothers' eyes.

David was gone.

"He wasn't dead, dude. The horns have to stake him through the heart."

Alive. David was still alive.

A week passed without any sign of David and the retribution the Frog brothers were convinced would come down upon them all. No more disappearances were reported. No more strange deaths or weird events around the town. The Boardwalk was as popular as ever, still filled with bright lights, noise, and the crush of people wanting to enjoy the arcades and the rides. Michael spent most evenings there, looking for a flash of David's blond hair among the crowds, rather than cowering at home like the others, unafraid of dying because without David he might as well be dead inside.

Two weeks later, as he left the Boardwalk to set off across the sandy beach he heard a sound and turned to see David standing ten feet away, bathed in moonlight.

"Are you scared of me, Michael?"

"No, because you don't want to kill me."

David stalked forward. "Max is gone. They've all gone... except for me. No more need of a Wendy for his little lost boys."

"You stopped Star from making me her first kill before Max picked out my mother. You didn't want me dead then, and you don't want me dead now."

David smiled softly. "Touche."

"I can't be a killer like you."

"I'll never grow old, Michael, and I thought I could never die. But we all must feed."

"Feed.... Yes. But can't you feed without killing? Can't you take just a little blood rather than all of it?"

"And leave witnesses?"

"So it can be done."

David closed his eyes and smiled, shaking his head. "I'm leaving Santa Clara."

"Take me with you."

David's eyes snapped open, and in the moonlight Michael could see the truth, that everything he felt for David was returned in full.

"And the killing?"

"Let's find another way."

*****

It was the first 'missing person' poster to go up in Santa Clara for almost a month and very few followed. By the time he and David made their way back to Santa Clara over a decade later, the poster had been replaced several times over and was hanging in tatters; Michael's faded picture barely recognizable. He had not aged a day, and though he had been forced to kill, those occasions were rare and only to protect him and David from discovery. Instead they had found others of their kind, who had found ways to feed without killing, to sate the blood lust without needing to rip apart their prey. They learned the things Max had failed to teach his Lost Boys, of how they could make their victim forget, letting them fall asleep and awaken the next morning with no idea why they felt so tired. So drained.

As night fell, he and David made their way to Michael's Grandpa's house, looking through the window as his mother sat down to a solitary meal. She looked far older than he remembered as if the years had been unkind to her, and perhaps they had. His Grandpa had died, and Sam was now in college half a state away.

Michael knocked on the door and waited for it to open, feeling guilty for the years of silence.

Her eyes widened. "Michael?"

"Mom."

Her smile was bright as she invited him in, the years dropping away from her face. He didn't think she would invite him in, not when she knew what he had become, but his mother had never been predictable. She hugged him tightly, unafraid, and it made him ask, "You're not afraid of me?"

She pulled back. "Of course not." She looked beyond the threshold into the darkness beyond. "Is he with you?"

"Always."

David joined him, and Michael spent a few hours telling her about the things they had seen and done, the places they had been. He let David answer her unspoken questions, his soft voice and seemingly gentle nature charming her just as he had done with so many others over the intervening years; another gift Max had failed to mention.

They did not feed from her because she was his mom, and it wasn't right, aware they might go hungry that night but neither caring.

When it was time to leave Michael hugged her tight, knowing he might not see her again, but he could feel the happiness in her, tinged with sadness at this final parting.

As the dawn approached he and David holed up in the cellar of an abandoned house, entwined around each other as usual rather than hanging upside down like bats. He shared his dream with David, of the years, the decades, or perhaps even centuries lying before them, and felt the warmth of David's touch in his mind as the daylight took them into a deep sleep.

END  



End file.
